Abused During A High School Band Trip [fm] [Rough] [Abuse] [Rape]

I posted about my first rape experience recently, and have gotten a few requests to post more. There have been some outright scary and creepy PMs sent my way, but a few very friendly individuals that just mentioned they enjoyed reading about it. Again, I do not condone any of these actions on anyone. I don’t, and never have enjoyed being abused. If people continue to read them, I have no issues with sharing them.
In high school, I was unfortunate enough to get myself into very hostile and scary situations. I was raped by my sister’s boyfriend during the summer between freshman and sophomore year, and the experience really scarred me. I was quiet and shy before, now I was outright anti social. I always picked the last two rows of desks to sit at in a new classroom, and always looked for the corners in any room I was in. I didn’t enjoy speaking to many people. I always felt very shakey, and uncomfortable, and kept to myself even more than before. The one place I ever felt I could be myself in, however, was our high school’s band room. Here’s a group of nerdy and down to earth individuals that liked what I liked. Everyone was always friendly, and the majority of my friends joined band through the same 7th grade group. Now we were all in high school, and even the older students always felt very welcoming and caring. I didn’t know at the time, but looking back, high school bands are usually the most fucked up, sexually active individuals in any high school.

Coming back sophomore year, I wanted change. Both in myself and my friends. I couldn’t stand hanging out with any of my past friends, because for some reason, all their problems now seemed like outright petty bullshit. I never realized what poor friends they were, until I felt I couldn’t let anyone know I was raped. I felt they wouldn’t listen, or wouldn’t understand. Or that they’d feel sorry for me. I had no one to talk to, no one to confide in. I played clarinet through middle school and freshman year, and now I wanted to try something different. One of the older seniors, a high brass section leader, mentioned I should borrow one of the band’s spare trumpets and give it a go. He would stay after school with me a few times, and I was amazed at how much confidence I was regaining after only blurting out a few notes. Ben helped me extensively, and mentioned I could be an extra 4th chair trumpet for the jazz band. The Jazz band would have a lot of spare and small time gigs throughout the year, and certain players would alternate between songs and sometimes even entire playlists. I was feeling uber confident in myself, and my new friend Ben, and immediately asked out director if I could join. Within a week, I was staying after school to catch up on songs and start practicing. Ben would sometimes even leave the practice hour to come help me in an individual practice room.

This went on for a few months. My sophomore year started kicking in, and I began to drop most of my older friends and hang out more with the older kids in jazz band. I was the only female in high brass, the entire trumpet section guys always felt it necessary to show me off. The main actress in every group photo, the center of attention with every new mockery. I began to get a small girl style crush on Ben, who was always the most polite and sincere senior of them all, and he would even start giving me rides after practice. After marching season was over, we were staying at Jazz practice every single day until 4pm. That was my life.

December came, and we had a small show to play up on the northern part of the state. The gig was 3 hours away, and we were leaving at 12pm, performing at 5pm, and leaving back home at 6pm. We get there, scored a “superior” rating, the best rating we could get, had a blast at a pizza joint for dinner, and made out trip home. Our Jazz band was about 20 kids strong. About 4 or 5 female, mostly in the saxophone sections and 2 trombone players. Our director was always super strict on the whole “girls up front of the bus, guys in back” so I sat somewhere in the middle. The lights came off on our bus, and everyone began to pass out, our director included. We all had a long day, and we had a few hours until we were home. I snuggled up by myself on my seat, and dozed off, covering myself with a sweater. Within a few minutes, I get a text from Ben asking to come sit in back with them. They were playing a truth or dare game, and wanted me included.

Being naive, and mostly very trusting of these guys, I went back there. They had never once shown any sort of sexual behavior towards me, I made my way back as sneakily as I could. Ben was sitting on the very last seat, he got up quickly and signaled me in. I smiled and jumped to the window seat. He quickly sat back down and faced me, and asked if I was ready to play. I said yeah, and Justin, another senior player, asked the first round.
“Truth or dare?” he asked. I began feeling excited at not knowing what to pick. I picked truth, and the guys all faced me waiting anxiously.

“Have you ever had sex?” Justin asked. Not even any warm up questions or anything, they went right to it. I immediately blushed, and was thankful the lights were out so they couldn’t see. I chuckled, trying to be one of the guys, but of course I couldn’t answer either or. How could I tell a group of guys I was raped? That I was no longer a virgin not by choice? But how could I tell them I was a virgin, anyway? They’d laugh at me and think I was a loser. Those are the kind of stupid thoughts that inhabit a sophomore girl. All this thinking, I kept an odd silence in the group. Ben randomly placed his arm around me and brought me closer to him and said “Come on, guys. I think we all know what that means.” Followed by some scattered laughs and grins. At the time, I felt upset at myself for staying quiet. And I felt grateful to Ben for closing the question. I couldn’t understand if the chuckles meant I had sex, or I hadn’t. A few questions go by, and they’re answered. I notice most questions were directed at me, and no one else is getting asked anything as sexually related as mine. I proudly say “dare” next time, and the guys grin. Out of the front seat, Mike says “I dare you to give me your phone”

Did they want to find any personal texts or revealing pictures? I was not that kind of girl. I chuckle and say “pfft, here ya go! Easy” and hand it off. The guys all group together and start going through my phone. Ben suddenly turns to face me, and asks if I’ve ever been kissed before.

I froze. So many thoughts going through my head at that moment. But I reaaaally liked this guy, and I didn’t want to ruin it. I shook my head as cute as I could, and leaned towards him. Ben didn’t hold for a second, and plunged in for the kiss. He placed his hand over my cheek, and held my face in place. Now, Ben was a pretty tall guy, and I’ve overall very short and small. His entire hand could cover my face, and it did. It felt unnatural, even. I kissed him as best I could, but thinking back, I didn’t know what I was doing. His tongue kept trying to enter my mouth, and finally I let him. He was exploring everywhere and sort of swallowing my spit. I tried pushing back for a second to breathe, and he would just corner me onto the glass. Within seconds, his hand reaches down and begins to undo my belt. Red flags going off, so I push him back and say no. He doesn’t hear me, or acts like he doesn’t, and continues to undue my belt. I freeze, and I don’t know what to do. I keep whispering no, and staying calm, because I’m also embarrassed for anyone else overhearing.

Ben pushes me onto the glass, and has me pinned with the side of my body up against the seat. I’m in an awkward fetal position, facing out the window, with my back now towards the center aisle, and Ben. That’s when I feel his hand down my black pants, and he’s rubbing me viciously. This isn’t a rub that should be a first time kind of thing. He wasn’t gentle at all. His left hand is now covering my mouth, and his right is rubbing my inbetween my thighs. I’m wondering why no one else is saying anything, and why he’s even doing this to me.

I start crying and murmuring no as best I can. His right hand is not moving my panties to the side, and he’s rubbing me underneath. I try my best to break free, but he holds onto my entire body. He’s not fingering me at this point, but is rubbing so hard back and forth that it’s hurting. His fingers are now inside my mouth, and I can taste how salty and dry they are. He’s almost choking me, now trying to shove his entire hand down my mouth while he continues to rub me.

At this point, I’m scared and frantic. I remember back to my first fucked up experience, and I can’t even garner the strength to push him off. I try to open my mouth, but words don’t seem to come out. He suddenly grabs my hair, and pulls me down to his thighs. He already has his dick out, and just places my lips in place. Without a chance to breathe, he grabs my hair with both hands, and starts driving my head up and down like a hammer. I can see the guys circling around and watching, no one is saying a thing. A few phone screens come on. I remember it hurting, every thrust down to the back of my throat. He wasn’t thrusting it into me, but was thrusting my head down onto it. I kept spitting and gagging everywhere, but he doesn’t stop. They’re not so much fast strokes, but rough, slow and hard. I’m crying all over myself, but he keeps going. He’s thick and long. He has my hair up on a ponytail, and just keeps going. I feel something warm shoot up, and it sticks to the back of my throat, but he keeps both hands on my hair and drives me up and down on it. I remember tasting salt and hating it, but he kept having me choke and swallow it. He whispers for me to swallow, and at this point I just want it all over. I start slurping it all as best I can. He calls me a good girl, and continues driving my head up and down slowly. This goes on for an eternity.

Justin hits his shoulder and says “he’s getting up, stop” and Ben pulls my hair up and throws me to the window. He whispers “shut the fuck up and act like you’re sleeping” and covers himself with a sweater. I’m pulling my black dress pants up and l leave my belt undone, I’m wiping the drool and tears off my face and catch my breath. I take my sweater off and cover part of my face, now crying softly by myself. I’m cold and shivering. I can see someone walking around flashing the light from their phone, checking up on people. They flash the light towards the back once, then just turn around. At this point, I’m screaming internally. Please come back. Please get back here and find me. The light goes off, and I’m back alone in the dark.

Ben continued to abuse and molest me right up until the highway exit of our school. Another hour and a half. I was still 15, and he was 18. The rest of the year was the most miserable year of my life. So much abuse that it nearly broke me, and I’m lucky to have made it out of there in one piece. I’m grateful I can share my experience with others. I never hope anyone ever has to go through these things, but these things always happen. Some people choose to move on, while others break and lose their identity.

The reason I share these stories, is because I have a new identity, and the old me is gone. I don’t get any satisfaction telling them or reading them, but I am aware some people do, which I feel is the point of this subreddit. In shorter terms, read about rape experiences. Get off on them. But hopefully that alone satisfies that urge, and nothing more.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/chai7i/abused_during_a_high_school_band_trip_fm_rough